


Cyke's Gone Psych(Or maybe not)

by OhHelloFandoms123



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: 70s-80s vibe, Creepy vibes, Detectives, Folie a Deux, Guess who's insane in the X-Men 👀, M/M, Murder, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Sad Ending, Scott x Logan, Shared delusional disorder, horror vibes, scogan - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:53:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25064209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhHelloFandoms123/pseuds/OhHelloFandoms123
Summary: Scott Summers is a detective working on a case called the The People of X, each of the victims have been left with a bright red X above their dead body. Soon Scott Summers finds some disturbing evidence about his relationship.
Relationships: Cyclops/Wolverine, Logan(X-Men)/Scott Summers, Scott Summers/Logan Howlett
Comments: 18
Kudos: 13





	1. In Poco Tempo | Before Long

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And I was never sure whether you were my home or just a stop along the way." – Christiane Starl

**1\. IN POCO TEMPO | Before Long**

It was morning when Scott Summers got the call about the People of X case. It was winter, the bed was warm and the snow sprinkled outside and the fire was going. Logan rolled on his side and groaned, "are you up already?" he asked. Scott started to get dressed and buttoning up his shirt and fixing his suspenders. It was four-am and the sun barely peeked through the dark foggy clouds. He slipped on some pants and started packing his bags.

"Don't leave," Logan sat up in bed, his hair all ruffled and a few pink marks left on his chest and neck. He started to rumage through a few coats to put on. His boyfriend got out of bed and slipped one some pants. "You can't leave," he whined. Scott turned around and kissed his forehead. Logan wrapped his arms around Scott's waist and kissed him softly. Life like this can make a road to heaven. Behind closed curtains and doors, blood spilled the pavement, glass shattered and the shovels were out to play. Logan felt high when the axe came down on his victims, he felt a rush of adrenalline.

There was a buzzing feeling that all of this was wrong. But his hands kept playing his game. It was a satisfying crunch to his tangled pyschology when the day was done and the killing was over. On afternoons sometimes, the two of them would put on a nice song on the radio and dance together in the living room. No-one can know about his secret hidden insanity which was locked away in a dark corner of his mind. 

Out in a hurry, Scott got inside his car as Logan watched from inside their house in the corner of New York. The snow as thick, heavy and it was hard to get through. It just took almost an hour to get to the police station. He parked and got out, the cold was biting at his skin. He saw the police and ambulance carry in a deadbody for the forensics to inspect. He grabbed his suitcase from the boot and walking out. It was dark and the streetlught barely helped from his savage breeze. 

He swung the door open, relieved it was warmer and approached the desk. There was bits of snow sitting on his hair and his lovely coat. "Detective Summers," he said. The receptionist looked up and smiled.

"Early morning, ain't it?" 

"It's fucking cold," he cussed, he pulled out his lighter and cigar. He really wished he stayed at home with Logan now, he would have had a nice cup of tea with toast with his hot boyfriend by the fire. Officer Ororo came out of her office and greeted him.

"Ah," she smiled at her friend "you're here, come, we got a new case for you." He followed the woman into a private boardroom where other officers were growling and hissing at each other over the case. 

"It's a little chaotic," she mumbled to him as they stopped at the door. They heard a smash of a mug and Private Investigator(previously a scientist and engineer for the government), Tony Stark had stormed out of the room, scaring then both and rushed off to the door. Another officer ran up to him to try calm him down. The P.I stamped his foot on the ground and cried, "this case makes no _fucking_ sense!" he shouted, pointing at the door, his face turning red, "it's insane I tell you!" he fumbled around in his pockets for his keys.

"No godman human being woulld be able to make marks like _that_!" with that, he slammed his car door shut and sped off in a hurry.

Scott scoffed, he's always been able to solve cases. Why was Stark so darn worried? He entered the room and there were images of teenagers on the whiteboard.

"Mr Summers," forensic scientist Jean Grey sighed in relief "take a seat. This one has been tricky. Three teenagers have been murdered and they all have a mark on them," he looked up at the images, photographs of Pietro Maximoff, Jubilee and Wanda Maximoff were hung up on the board. Jean slid him the file and he looked at the gruesome images. "They were all around the same age," she explained. Dr Hank McCoy and Dr Stephen Strange were also in the room.

He felt sick to his core, blood covered their faces and there was a huge red X above all of them. "Two of them went to Charle's Xaviers school for the gifted," she also noted.

"Who would do this?" the marks on their skin look like they'd been torn apart by animals, their guts hanging out with blood slits across their face. "We might think it's a group of people," Stephen explained "tomorrow you and Ororo are going to be investigating the crime scenes. Other doctors and police will be there to assist you." Hank gave Ororo and him a copy of evidence and information on the victims.

"We'll call you when we need you," Jean said. They exited out of the room. Something felt off about those images, like they were planned perfectly like a photoshoot to get the right angle. Something felt familar about that picture, as if he knew who did the murder. He decided to forget about the whole thing and go home to Logan.

* * *

Logan was washing the dishes and he saw Scott's car pull up. He panicked, the mail-man's body was in the backyard. He doesn't know how it happened, he He ran outside and shoved in the bin, he ran back inside and washed his hands. He heard the keys jingle and the door opened to the sun peaking through and his wonderful boyfriend standing there. Scott smiled at the sight of him, he walked up and ruffled his hair, he was clearly relieved to see him.

"What happened?" Logan asked, "you look distressed."

"So do you," Scott felt like Logan was running back and forth like an employee at a daycare.

"It's the case," Scott finally spoke as Logan poured him a glass. "Thank you," he downed the whole thing in one go. When the two of them started dating, they'd go to multiple bars and hang out together. Logan was a heavy drinker and could take almost anything, Scott however couldn't and would pass out multiple times from trying to impress him. He remembered those nights where he had to carry him to the car or to the taxi. Not only that but Scott drooled in his sleep(it was cute but kinda gross).

"What about it?" 

"It's..." he drummed his fingers on the table for a moment, "odd." he finally said, the images of the teens still in his mind. Logan rubbed his back, "what were their names?"

"Pietro, Jubilee and Wanda." he said with a bitter undertone. Logan removed his hand from Scott's shoulder and looked to the ground.

"That's sad," was all the words he could manage to say. He felt like something will forever clog his brain from doing something _right_ from trying to help him prevent all this madness. "I'm investigating tomorrow," Scott said, "in the meantime, want to dance?"

Logan smiled, oh how he was always up for a good dance. Logan had too many jobs to count, he used to be a lumberjack, a soldier and a painter. Right now, his job was simple and didn't need someone bossing him around, it was just him. His new job was killing. How it tasted of a beautiful shade of red, the danger enthralled him to look deeper, explore something new. Scott turned on the record player, occassionaly they'd use the radio. He chose a good song, a classical one which was one of his favourites. Moments like these were precious, both of them knew that they can't let it shatter so easily.

They held each other to the music, the strings sounded so bright and cheerful. This is exactly what they needed. It was just them, their living room and the mail man's dead body in their backyard.

* * *

It was Saturday in the winter and the phone rang. Scott walked over to pick it up, "hello?" he spoke. There was a mumble on the other side of the phone. Logan recognised the sound instantly. Victor. He almost dropped his plate, he rushed over and snatched the phone off Scott. His boyfriend was left confused and concerned about his reaction. 

"Victor," he whispered, holding the phone close so Scott doesn't hear, "this ain't a good time right now,"

"It's never a good time with you," his brother snapped back, "now listen here you bastard, the police are onto me."

"Shit Victor!" he said sarcastically once Scott went outside to do the garden, ran a hand through his hair and sighed, "listen...I don't know how I can get you outta this one–"

"You just want to stay with your pretty little boyfriend..."

Scott couldn't hear much of the conversation, he got out the shovel and started clearing out the driveway and the porch and the little footpath that extends to the backyard, once he reached the backyard there was a foul smell in the air. He sighed, probably knowing one of the nighbour's cats had killed a few dead birds and dropped it in their bin, he pulled out his gloves and his boots crunched against the snow. He lifted up the lid of the bin. His face went pale and his limbs went numb. A dead body; in _their_ bin. The mail man's face was hacked and scars littered over his mail-man uniform and letters were scattered everywhere.

He felt goddamn sick. He noticed the patterns, it was almost the same as the teenager's in the case. He looked back to see his boyfriend pacing back and forth, shouting on the phone. 

"VICTOR, I SAID I _DON'T KNOW_ –" Logan was getting angrier by the second. Then the shouting stopped, this would be his oppurtunity to call the police. He ran inside frantically, Logan was sitting on the lounge, distressed.

"Done already?" he asked sarcastically.

"T-There's a... _body_ in our bin." Scott stammered, Logan tried to hide his nervousness. "I'm calling the police." he grabbed the phone and dialled 911.

Within a matter of minutes, their house was a crime scene. Now he has two things to deal with.


	2. Vieni | Come Along

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "My crime was loving you. The murder weapon was my heart. " – A. Bentley

After that fiasco yesterday, he put on his gloves and went to work.

They approached the crime scene with great difficulty. Ororo fixed on her gloves and grabbed a magnifying glass from her pocket.

He circled around Wanda's dead body and the smoke lingered from his cigar. He kneeled down and looked at the body. "Most of the scars were made from axe," Ororo explained "our main suspect is Victor Howlett. We found his DNA on her jacket."

The name ticked his ear. "Ah yeah," he remembered working on his case a while back. He assaulted Jubilee's family, he used to work for them as Jubilee's housekeeper. A doctor onsight told them they found a pack of cigarettes next to the body, they swiped off as much blood as they could. He kneeled closer, something was poking out of her jacket, he unzipped it and opened the now stained piece of paper.

It was a letter from her school principal.

> Dear Wanda Maximoff,
> 
> I congratulate you on your achievements for this semester. As you know, the students are hosting their end of semester party in Houston Street in New York at 7.00pm. Bring this as your entry ticket and hope to see you there!
> 
> Regards,
> 
> Charles Xavier

"When did she die?" Scott asked Ororo.

"Around 5.45pm yesterday," she explained. Scott wrote that information down on his notepad. 

"This means she didn't make it to the party, her brother took a separate way." she said. She started searching her pockets for any train ticket or bus ticket or a credit card to check if she took a taxi...or something. She found a slip of paper in the pocket of her jeans, she opened it with care. A train ticket from Cooperstown, "it says here that she entered the station at 4.30pm and the train ride ended at 5.25pm." Scott said, he put it in the bag of evidence and they kept searching.

They both noticed one arm was untouched, it had no scars or bruises or open wounds. 

"We should interview people from the school," Scott thought aloud.

"No shit," Ororo said, leaning closer, she could see the ruined mascara on the girl's face and the blood stains on the clothing. It looked like an art that you wouldn't want to get into "that's a logical thing to do."

"Does Pietro go to the same school?" he asked, standing up.

Ororo nodded, "we can alert the school for an investigation sweep," she explained. Hours passed and a team of police showed up to Charles Xavier's School for the Gifted. They checked each and every dorm, every classroom, office, the kitchen – they need evidence. Charles Xavier was in his office, tapping his fingers nervously.

"What do you need? My school is innocent," he proclaimed.

"It's an investigation," Scott corrected "we're not accusing you of any crime." 

"Yet." Ororo finished. "Now, I'm going to ask you a few questions Professor, if that's okay." Charles seemed hesitant but he answered each question as honestly as he could. He clicked his pen and circled around the bookshelf. There were multiple books about psychology, behaviour and there was one that was hand-written called: _Folie a Deux - A study on Raven & Erik_. He pulled it out of the shelf.

"What's this?" he asked.

"You never heard of Folie a Deux?" he said, wheeling his wheelchair closer, the smile on his face sparked high interest in this topic "it means madness for two. It's a shared delusional disorder when couples go crazy together,"

"Seems a little weird," he said, flipping through the book as Ororo was writing down the answers. Why would anyone want to go mad together, most importantly, _how?_

"Erik and Raven were my friends," Charles explained with a hint of sadness, "they went crazy together and killed themselves."

"I'm...sorry," Scott mumbled, now wishing he hadn't pulled it out, he slipped the book back in and twirled the pen in his hands. Suddenly, a police officer stormed in and held up a metal thing on a metal beaded chain. Ororo turned and sighed, "there's no need for dramatic reactions, Wade."

Wade smiled and tossed the dog tags to Scott, he almost didn't catch it at first. (Everyone thinks Wade is high). "It has Victor Howlett's name on it, he was here! I found it in one of the dorms!" Ororo turned to Charles and stared him down.

"So you lied when you said that you had no relationship with Victor?"

"No!" he cried "not me...It must be one of my students."

"Wade, what room did you find it in?" he asked, he walked towards him and ran his thumb against the engravings. Dear god, this was Logan's _brother._ "Room 156," he explained. The other police up there were working hard, scanning through books and even pillows to find whatever they can, to see if any students had anything against the killed teenagers.

"That's Jubilee's room." Charles mumbled, there was a nervous feeling in the room.

"She's dead," Ororo takes note of what was happening "what's her relationship with her classmates?"

"She's never had any trouble, always got along with everyone." he said fondly.

"Was she going to attend the party?" he asked.

"We didn't know," he replied.

* * *

Back at home, the case of the mail man's dead body was still under investigation. This made Logan worried. Oh, he's insane and he's addicted to the feeling of it. It gets him thrilled, excited, energetic. More than sex or drugs. This made him feel like running a marathon. He was preventing any nervous action when they started searching the house. From top to bottom. Everything felt...different. It was from that day when the police came when the neighbours noticed a red light shadowing over the Howlett-Summers household, a dark storm was approaching and it only brang death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, make sure to leave feedback!!


	3. In Ritardo | Overdue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Because of you I can feel myself slowly but surely becoming the me, I have always dreamed of being." – Tyler Knott Gregson

Another two weeks went by. Logan felt the cold against his skin, standing on the porch, watching cars go by in the night, hoping Scott would return home soon. He was smoking and watched the little children run up the street with a smile, he saw their garden trimmed to perfection. The neighbours were not aware of how messed up the mind can be, particularly for Logan. Scott's car pulled up, it was 9.00pm. He came out, shutting the door tiredly and walked his way over, pecking Logan's lips as he entered the house.

"How's the case going?" he asked, following him inside.

No answer. He said it a little louder. Still no reply.

"You alright? You mad at me?" he asked, sitting down and watching his boyfriend get out a microwave meal and watching it spin around under the yellow light. He approached him wrapping his arms around his waist.

"What's wrong?" he said softly, almost speaking into his shoulder.

"Nothing," was the bitter reply. He's never seen Scott like this. The thing was, after collecting a lot of evidence – it just all pointed to Victor. He knew Logan wouldn't be happy about it. Then again, something didn't make sense.

"Just nothing?" he asked more sweetly this time, urging to get an answer from him.

"It's the case," Scott said finally, getting out his meal. "It doesn't make any damn sense," he muttered angrily.

"Well, why don't you take a break?" he asked softly. Scott had this scornful look and he put his fork down, staring at the table.

"You can't be  _ serious _ Logan–"

"I'm  _ dead _ serious," Logan smiled "you've been working you ass off!" he cried "you deserve it." Scott looked up from his sad, miserable plate of spaghetti. Something felt funny, like his stomach was doing flips – maybe he just needed food. After a moment of silence, Scott had the words ringing in his head,  _ you deserve it. _ He looked up at his boyfriend, then back to his overflowing suitcase in the corner of the room. He took a bite and grinned to himself.

"I deserve it."

Logan raised his hands in victory(and in relief) "great! We'll plan something–"

"But the team," Scott remembered "they need me–"

"Bullshit!" Logan cried. He looked up, slightly offended. "I  _ mean _ ," Logan slowed down, "yes, of course they need you. But you need a life too.  _ I  _ need you. Like I said, I'm  _ dead  _ serious." Scott took his hand and smiled.

"Alright, I'm dead serious too.” Logan got up from his seat and kissed him passionately.

Jean was pacing back and forth in her office, holding her clipboard. Recently she's had three other dead teenagers discovered. She needed Scott but he called in on a break, some of the team was furious. For example, Stephen had destroyed three mugs in two seconds.

"He can't just leave the case!" he cried, staring at the board of the evidence and photographs.

"He deserves a break," Ororo said "I've seen that guy work up until the next morning in his office, he just needs some time alone."

"Curious," Hank said, flipping through pages of Charles Xavier's book on Erik and Raven, he asked to borrow it for his own study. Charles agreed because he didn't need to have a reminder of something so sad in his school anyway. There was an image of the Raven and Erik side-by-side together. There was a line in the book that caught his eye:

_ The energy the two of them radiate, it screamed craziness. Through my many years of friendship with the two, I've never seen a laugh that screamed danger, I've never seen a kiss that cried out to cover the pain. They were sick and I knew it was too late to help them. _

This was the first event to lead to madness. In their hotel room, they were lying down under the sheets. "Are you enjoying this so far?" Logan mumbled, caressing Scott's hair. 

"Yeah," Scott smiled "I think I am."

"Now, I don't want to hear one damn word about this case, alright? This is about self-care." Logan smiled, holding him by the waist. They didn't know how much this trip would affect their relationship. After breakfast, then a walk in the park - Logan had this urge to do something rebellious. Sometimes he would hallucinate a few people in the streets. Sometimes Scott did too. He just thought that they were real, since Logan saw them too. Clearly, because they were walking the other way.

"They're following us," Logan mumbled.

"Who?" Scott asked. Something was eerie in the air. Something felt off. "Look behind you." He turned around and he saw two figures that looked a lot like them, or not at all like them, either way they were being followed. Scott took his hand, there was a look in Logan's eyes he's never seen before. The fiery passion of mischief, it urged him to do something beyond the restrictions. Then, he blinked. No-one was there.

"Darling, who are you seeing?"

"Someone." Logan muttered, then turned back to face his partner. The signs were there, they were bright enough to notice for sure. Except - Scott couldn't see the obvious signs of delusion and illusion. He saw what Logan saw sometimes. Like that one afternoon in the park by the lakeside, they were sitting on a bench, holding hands. The beautiful oak tree to their left was talking to them specifically.

It was all gibberish and nonsense. Scott wanted to snap out of it, he wondered why the thoughts kept going, this train of thought was on fire and it was leading to hell. "You alright Scott?"

"What is the tree telling me?" he mumbled, worriedly, his body was shaking. "Why is it speaking to me like that?"

Logan shuffled closer and cupped his face. "There's nothing wrong–"

"There is!" he cried, the people around them shifted their heads to the couple. "Why won't the voices stop!?" he cried even louder. Logan took his shaking hands and smiled sweetly at him. "You're fine–"

"No!" he cried "I don't feel the same anymore!"

He didn't feel the same. There was something new in the air that was thick, heavy and it was covering all his common sense.

* * *

**2.00AM, NEW YORK.**

That was the first time Scott ever killed anyone, or anything(apart from household bugs, of course). There was blood on the pavement, the cold winter air was gnawing at their skin. He could feel the same satisfactory rush that Logan felt. He felt like he could run a marathon. "Feeling better?" Logan said, starting up the car with a grin. Scott nodded, there was a part of him that was breaking. Soon there might not be any detective or witty remarks left in him, if he were to keep this up.

Scott took his hand and kissed him. The angels from above shivered in pain, this kiss spoke with the very thorns and brittle tongue of the devil itself. There was no light left in their actions, only death. A streamline of a bloody waterfall of catastrophe they've left behind.  _ Oh.  _ And this was just the start. One night after the other, the axe came down. The screams echoed. The blood poured.

Meanwhile, whilst a case was being dissected, Dr Hank McCoy was reading through Xavier's book. There was a line that caught his very interest:

_ You don't know when the time will come, when you wake up and get the call that your friends are dead. _

Jean Grey was talking on the phone to Scott, they've returned from their vacation.

"What do you  _ mean _ you're quitting?" she cried in shock.

"I just – this isn't for me, Jeanie." he replied, he rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"But you can't! We need you in this case, the children's families depend on you!" she urged. Why would Scott Summers ever want to quit?

"It's  _ personal. _ " that was it, he hung up on the line. The way he strung those words together, it didn't sound human nor natural. There was no more  _ Detective _ Scott Summers anymore. Logan and him continued to get drunk and together, they made messes they didn't know how to clean and they made murders that were too obscene. 

Maybe Folie a Deux wasn't so 'crazy' after all. Sometimes they'd share the same thought that it was okay to kill. It wasn't. It really wasn't. 

But here they were anyway, in bed, in each other's arms and speaking to each other softly, like normal couples do. "I never felt like this before."

"Like what?" Logan said, he rolled over to place his arms over Scott's waist. 

"Like I can catch the moon with my bare hands."

"You'd get used to it." Logan smiled. Then, for a moment the Detective in him clicked, it awoke and he almost felt like screaming. He killed someone. With Logan. And Logan was the answer to the case for those teenagers– _ What have I done? No, no no no, please, what's happening – I'm in bed with a killer, a killer who I fell in love with I can't – there's just too much– _

"Something wrong?" Logan asked. Scott looked up and ran his thumb over his face and took a long, deep breath.

He managed to plaster a fake smile. "I'm alright." he replied quietly and flicked off the bedside lights. 

> ABOVE ALL, KEEP LOVING ONE ANOTHER EARNESTLY, SINCE LOVE COVERS A MULTITUDE OF SINS. - 1 Peter 4:8


	4. Andanto | gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity." - Edgar Allan Poe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I have been very slow on updating this fanfiction, hope you enjoy the finale!

**CHAPTER 4: ANDATO | Gone**

Scott could have everything in the world right now, in his hands. By his hands. One swing with an axe and he’s relaxed, but this wasn’t him. Logan kissed him softly as blood rained down from the sky. He felt so power, consumed by his own lust for him, killing and his boyfriend - The detective was out the window. Day after day, spending time hand-in-hand as the coffee wafted into the room - something was wrong. They both knew it, they had this sudden desire to _let go_ \- of anything and everything. With each axe, came intimacy. It was like art - carefully and creatively – leaving the X marks on their victims. Scott seemed to forget about the case very quickly.

* * *

Ororo received a call, another victim of the X case. This time, they weren't teenagers - a group of adults, found in an alleyway. Blood dripped down with ease from their heads - it was even more violent than usual. More than one person worked on this, for sure. They collected and analysed the evidence. They called Scott multiple times to try to get him back onto the case. No reply. 

Scott and Logan were having the best time of their lives. The music playing in the background...the soft display of each other's features. The warm hold of each other's love - if that's what you want to call it. "Love," Logan said softly, lighting a cigarette "do you ever want to go crazy?"

"Aren't we already crazy?" Scott replied tiredly. The smell of the bed - it was of smoke and the warmth of each other's skin - it was bliss. Overtime - this delusion became even more prominent. More blood was spilled and the police were more confused. Ororo was swept up by counting the bodies, they were so close to finding the person, they didn't know who. 

Hank flipped through the book once more in their office: _Time will only tell when the blood spilled._ Jean and Ororo were arguing over where the cases were, the suspects...It was a mess. 

Then, Logan prompted an idea over dinner. The motion of cutlery stopped - the sound of chewing stopped - everything stopped. Scott froze "what did you say?"

Logan's pupils were dilated, it was like a proposal - but worse "let's die." the words stung and Scott lost all his appetite. "Let's die, together, love. Who needs marriage to proclaim their love? What's more romantic than dying side-by-side?" Logan had this crazy smile on his face. Scott's heart was beating quickly. His fight or flight response kicked in.

"Logan," he swallowed "I..." he couldn't believe his ears. 

His boyfriend paused, "I'm sorry, must've scared ya."

" _Logan_ ," he said more sternly "why - why are we doing this?" he looked towards the blood on the carpet and the collection of axes.

His boyfriend took his hand, it was warm - but the action felt cold. "Because I love you."

Scott pulled his hand away "I...I couldn't possibly..."

" _Sweetheart,_ " he said, every so softly, it was like a melody, just singing for him. Logan leaned forward and kissed him. It felt like fireworks that were meant to bleed you out, that was _meant_ to feel like your body was shaking under-stimulation. Logan reached for the pistol on the counter and Scott reached for the knife and knew what was coming. "Logan, are we crazy?" his hands were shaking.

Logan could only smile and say: "Cyke's gone psych." Then, with a shot of a bullet and a piercing of a knife, they were dead.

* * *

The neighbours knew there was no chance to save them. They called the police.

Oh dear lord, it was already too late and she knew it. When they arrived at the crime scene, it was a gruesome, dark image of Logan Howlett and Scott Summers dead, covered in blood, their hands linked with a knife piercing through Logan's chest and a pistol on the floor. She's never seen something so dead that it looks alive, emotional. Ororo took a closer look with Jean. Scott's glasses are smashed and cracked on the floor, Logan's keys are scattered on one corner of the pavement. The signs were there, in their household. Their private little think-tank of madness. She watched as their bodies were carried away, a feeling of sorrow and confusion.

Scott was the last person anyone would have thought to have spiralled into madness.

There they were, covered in their delusional love-blood. 

* * *

Xavier sat in his office, reading the news about Scott Summers and Logan Howlett. They died just like Raven and Erik. Victor got arrested and the case was closed. The thing is, about insanity - you can control it, but fearing it? Maybe that's inevitable. Who knows? All we know that this is gone now and it was time to move on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! You've come this far! Leave some feedback, it'd make my day!

**Author's Note:**

> Song:  
> \- Cradles by Sub Urban  
> \- Carnival of the Animals R. 125 XIII. The Swan(Arr. Cello and Piano)  
> \- Serenade for Strings in E Major Op. 22  
> \- Vesper


End file.
